


My, What Big Teeth You Have

by Cerberusia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Breeding, Knotting, M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 22:57:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15205328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberusia/pseuds/Cerberusia
Summary: Draco has been sent as a political hostage to the werewolf camp, as a test of his father's loyalty. However, Fenrir Greyback wants him for a very particular purpose...





	My, What Big Teeth You Have

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BiffElderberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiffElderberry/gifts).



> You don't have a letter, so I concocted this treat out of your list of tags - and what a good list it was ;) Hope you enjoy!

The werewolf camp was on the North Yorkshire moors. The autumn drizzle was mild but persistent, and even through their waterproofing charms, Draco's feet squelched in his mooncalf leather boots. Beside him, Mulciber and Avery made grim escorts as they tramped over the wet gorse towards the scar in the hillside, half a mile from where the Portkey had dumped them.

When they got there, the camp was no more salubrious than Draco had expected. Several rough-looking wizards and witches - werewolves, obviously - were sheltering in shallow caves carved into the hillside. More emerged from the shadows to examine the newcomers. There was tree cover, but they seemed to live mostly out in the open, like real wolves. Draco didn't even dare contemplate the toileting arrangements.

He and his escorts stopped a few feet from the boundary line that kept Muggles from seeing anything suspicious. The werewolves didn't look like they were about to attack, but they were obviously waiting for something - or, more likely, someone. Draco knew who.

After a prolonged moment of silence, in which Draco contemplated the amount of water in his boots and how fast he could go for his wand if the nearest werewolf got bored and leapt for him, a great barrel-chested man with grey hair, a scruffy beard and mad blue eyes emerged from a cave entrance Draco hadn't noticed, hidden behind a promontory of rock. The wind howled over the desolate landscape and whipped his hair around his scarred, craggy face - but didn't disguise the cruel smile on his thin lips.

"Gentlemen," said Fenrir Greyback in a low growl. "About time." He hawked and spat. "Hand 'im over and go. Don't worry, I know the agreement." He raised one filthy hand with claw-like nails. "On my honour." The filthy leer that accompanied the phrase didn't convince Draco that Greyback had anything of the sort, but Avery and Mulciber, after a few moments of shuffling, Disapparated. He was well and truly on his own. Draco swallowed and tilted his chin up, then wished he hadn't because the wind blew the rain in under his hood.

"Come on then, boy," Greyback crooned. "You're our guest. You'll see how well we treat guests here, won't he?" Murmurs of agreement from various werewolves. Almost everybody's eyes were fixed on him, in what Draco interpreted as curiosity rather than friendliness.

 _We'll certainly see how you treat guests,_ Draco thought, and stepped over the boundary into the camp.

Greyback's thick arm instantly curved around his shoulders, so much like a vise that Draco couldn't even be grateful for the warmth. "Let's get you inside, eh? You're so thin, I'm sure you're cold..." Draco allowed the werewolf to lead him around to the cave he'd correctly guessed was hidden behind the rocky outcrop. It was clear why Greyback had picked it: it was the largest of those he'd seen thus far, and faced away from the wind and rain. Oilcloth bags filled an untidy corner, and in the other was a pile of furs. It was primitive, but as caves went, at least it was relatively clean.

"Something to drink?" Greyback was rooting through one of the oilcloth bags. "Something to get the chill out...aha!" He pulled out a bottle of what looked like pumpkin juice. "And food, food for humans..." More searching produced cold meat and cheese, which looked surprisingly fresh to Draco's eyes. "You must be hungry," Greyback added solicitously, though the smirk ruined the effect.

He wasn't, in fact; but he knew that this was part of the exchange. He'd been given to Greyback for three days as a hostage. Greyback had wanted a show of good faith, and the Dark Lord had wanted to establish his father's loyalty. The choice had been obvious.

There was no table and no chairs, so Draco sat on the earth floor to eat his dinner. Greyback hadn't provided him with a cup and Draco wouldn't have bet money on him having one, so he drank straight from the bottle once Greyback had murmured a spell to warm it. The liquid that looked like pumpkin juice was, surprisingly enough, pumpkin juice; though it had a slightly firey aftertaste that suggested that either the bottle had previously been used to store spirits or the juice had fermented. Draco drank it anyway, just as he ate the gamey meat and hard cheese. He didn't know when he'd next receive such hospitality.

Greyback ate too - a rabit, freshly-caught, which he skinned and pouched with a knife before tearing into it raw. Draco tried not to look - he preferred to keep his meagre dinner down - but the spectacle was grotesquely fascinating. Greyback ate like the animal he was. Even Father's wolfhounds had more manners.

He felt warm once he'd eaten, which was an improvement; and tired, which was not.

"Here, let's get you out of those wet boots, shall we? Tsk, they're all soaked through..." Greyback's huge hands started roughly unlacing his left boot. Draco was so startled that he nearly kicked Greyback in the face before he remembered himself and the delicate situation he was in. He wanted Greyback's filthy hands off him and his clothes, sopping wet or no, but this close the the smell and size of him were overwhelming, so Draco stayed quiet and let Greyback pull off his sodden boots.

When Greyback made a move of the rest of him, however, Draco had to protest.

"I-I can do that myself," he insisted when Greyback's fingers moved to undo the buttons of his robes. Greyback laughed, revealing chipped yellow teeth.

"Can you, now? Go on, then." His lascivious tone made it clear that he intended to watch. Draco bit his lip and kept his eyes down as he shed his cloak and unbuttoned his robes to leave only his chemise and socks - the latter wet and uncomfortable, but he didn't want to take them off to stand on the dirt with his bare feet. It was disgusting, and too vulnerable.

Greyback noticed, of course.

"Now, then, we can't have that." His light, cajoling tone gave Draco the creeps. "Sit down here on the bed and I'll help you get those off." He took hold of Draco's shoulders to steer him, and Draco stumbled backwards at the power in his grip. He felt hot and loose, like he'd drunk a mug of Butterbeer. He was utterly pliable in Greyback's hands. Without meaning to, he sat down on the pile of furs that served as Greyback's bed. They didn't smell like the fur throws on the Manor's beds in winter, or like Mummy's stole. They smelt like Greyback himself, sharp and musty and animal.

Greyback was peeling off his wet silk socks. It felt good to be out of them, but even though they were a flimsy layer and no protection at all, to be barefoot left Draco feeling vulnerable and exposed. This apprehension was justified when Greyback began to lightly trace the veins of Draco's feet. His hands were warm and coarse. He leaned in so close that his breath ruffled the downy hair on Draco's calves, which immediately stood on end.

"Now the _real_ fun begins," he murmured. Draco was caught in his pale blue gaze. "Now I finally get my hands on you..."

When he began to run his rough hands up Draco's legs, Draco really started to struggle.

"Get off!" he cried, slapping at Greyback's hands and arms. He hadn't been permitted to bring his wand - his mother's old one - and the wandless incantations she'd tried to teach him slipped from his tongue.

Greyback laughed again and pinned him easily, knocking him to the so-called bed like a wolf would a cub.

"What did you think you were here for, sweetheart?" he asked, spreading apart Draco's legs to get a good look up his chemise. "You're the Dark Lord's present to us." His hands were on Draco's thighs, and he ignored Draco's weak struggles. "Now I get to _enjoy_ you."

He sprang up to pull off his stained and scruffy robes. He wore nothing underneath, not even underwear, and Draco got his first glimpse of his rapist's huge red erection. He'd never seen a grown man's before - only caught glimpses of his friends in the Quidditch locker room showers - but it seemed much larger than it ought to be, outsized. Fit for a monster like Greyback.

He tried to wriggle away from Greyback as he knelt again on the furs, but there was nowhere to escape: there were rough earthen walls on two sides and Greyback on the others.

"Please!" he begged, "Please, don't!"

Greyback only smiled his cruel smile, enjoying Draco's fear, and stroked his erection with one hand. Then he reached for Draco - the word went sideways - and Draco found himself on his hands and knees, chemise shoved up around his waist, and with Greyback's huge cock pressing at his arsehole.

"Shh, shh," said Greyback when Draco began to let out helpless high-pitched whimpers of fear. "You're all loose, see? You were such a good boy and drank everything. This won't hurt a bit." Then he began to push his cock inside Draco.

He was wrong: it still hurt. Whatever had been in the pumpkin juice had relaxed Draco's muscles that his body simply accomodated Greyback's outsized endowment. But it felt _wrong_ , and instead of a sting or burn there was the awful ache that radiated from the base of his spine as Greyback forced his way in. It went in slickly, wet with Greyback's own precome, and Draco had to put down his head into the musty furs and pant with how awful it felt to be stretched and used. Behind him, Greyback sighed with pleasure as he fully sheathed his cock inside Draco's body.

"Knew you could take it all," he rumbled. All Draco's breath came out in a squeak. There was no room inside him for anything except Greyback's cock.

Greyback drew back, letting Draco breathe - then thrust in hard, driving all the breath out of Draco's lungs in a grunt. It still ached, but his body was still pliable in Greyback's hands, to be stuffed full of Greyback's cock.

Greyback set up a punishing pace, taking a harsh grip on Draco's hips and pulling them back to meet his hard thrusts. Draco gasped into the furs, the pressure and shock forcing tears from his eyes. Greyback fucked like an animal, uncaring of Draco's own pleasure. But, impossibly, the pain inside him was turning hot and liquid, like his limbs had earlier. Greyback's cock felt less like it was forcing its way in, and more like it was filling a space made for it. Draco tried to thrash again, alarmed by the way his body was responding; but Greyback pinned him with his weight and continued fucking him.

"Got a taste for it, have you?" Greyback's deep voice vibrated through his chest against Draco's back, ignoring Draco's denials. "That's the way, that's how you're supposed to feel, all hot and good and loose..."

And Draco did. He hated it, was disgusted by the way his body was responding to the violation, but he could feel his own cock twitching and filling between his legs. He protested weakly, but his body had already betrayed him. Greyback's enormous cock battering his insides began to feel good, hot, right.

"Yesss, good boy," Greyback hissed through his teeth. "Mm, if we were keeping you, I'd bite you right now." Hot breath on his ear, and Greyback licked a wet stripe up his neck. "I'm going to breed you right here, just how you want it..."

"Y-you can't," Draco gasped, leaving aside the thorny question of whether he wanted it or not. "You can't _breed_ me."

"Can't I?" Greyback's laugh was low and ragged. "Of course I can. Little boy, what did you think you were here for? You'll bear me a litter and _like_ it."

"No!" Bear a litter? What was Greyback talking about? What had been in that drink and food? Pinned beneath Greyback's bulk, Draco couldn't even struggle. His cock throbbed between his legs and his insides felt hot and wonderful as Greyback continued to fuck him with his enormous cock.

It took Draco a long moment to realise that something had changed. That there was something about the base of Greyback's cock that was _growing_...

He felt the curve of Greyback's smile against his ear when he began to claw at the furs.

"You never guessed that, did you?" he crooned. "Nobody ever does. Do you know what it is?"

When Draco was small and was still being educated at home, his mother had explained to him the facts of life by showing him how they arranged for the wolfhounds to mate. The demonstration had made a great impression on Draco, and he remembered vividly the way the dog had 'tied' with the bitch. He knew what it was, alright.

Osburga had looked so unbothered by the knot going inside her; Draco was less so. His body craved it, wanted and sought the completion, but his mind revolted from what would surely tear him apart, it was so _big_ and Greyback was shoving it into him, inside him, and it just wouldn't _fit_ , and Greyback was grunting through his teeth as he forced the swollen knot inside Draco's arse and Draco _howled_ as it finally popped in. His cock felt like it was going to explode, throbbing and leaking precome even though Draco didn't want _any_ of this.

Greyback continued to move, thrusting back and forth as best he could while he was locked inside Draco - and then he stiffened and groaned, and Draco felt jets of hot come wash into him, more and more. more than any human could produce. Greyback was filling him up, just as he'd promised. It went on for - minutes, ages, so long and hot that Draco trembled all over, his eyes rolled back, and his twitching cock shot into the furs beneath him.

Greyback was licking his neck like an over-affectionate dog. If he were brave, Draco thought, he would snatch up Greyback's knife from where it lay on the floor, gleaming in the moonlight, and gut him right now. Greyback wasn't expecting him to put up a fight, and they would be tied together for at least half an hour. He could grab Greyback's wand and be gone.

"Good boy," Greyback rumbled in his ear, one huge hand coming to rest possessively on his belly. "You'll bear me such strong children..."

Draco closed his eyes.


End file.
